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The Dale of Wolves

Started by Wildfire, June 24, 2008, 07:14:10 PM

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Wildfire

Correct on both accounts Johan. And my applause on your astute observation towards the name...and no, it's not a mistake.

Ashe did indeed feel silly with his grandeur of showing the natural tattoo on his chest.

Progressing on, Ashe responded to her inquiries with one of his own, "Shall we walk to your Dale Gnomes fires while we speak?"
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

Shankaria's head bobbed in the fashion that Ashe had numerous times seen Maccabeus's head bob while he thought on propositions. "We could do that, if you'd like, but be warned: if we do that, we're going to have to entertain them and tend to all their ails; we won't get a moment to talk betwixt ourselves." If you join me in flight, my home is but a hand or so north of here, where we can eat and talk in peace and privacy." Her brows lifted in question above her bright green eyes.
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Wildfire

"Then fly we shall!" Ashe proclaimed. Ashe jumped into the air and before his feet would have touched the ground he was suspending himself in feathery, silver winged flight.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

The colorful little falcon was on her wing even as Ashe hefted himself into the air.

Ashe's huge silver wings dwarfed Shankaria's much smaller vibrant ones. Initially, Ashe tried to follow Shankaria closely, but in short order he realized that Shankaria was as capricious a flyer as Maccabeus was a thinker. As she flew forward she rose and fell, she swayed left and right, as if pushed about by the unseen hand of an aeffreet.. Ashe recognized that she looked in flight much as Maccabues did during his morning dance.

Ashe did the best that he could in predicting Shankaria's path. He soared as straight as he could, following her continually variable path as they made their way northward. They were still above the trees of the wildlands, but from a height Ashe could see the wide expanse of plains that was the Dale of Wolves not far to the west.

Kossuth rose by about a hand – a little more, actually – when Shankaria rose up higher and higher into the air. Having watched the utter enjoyment that she held in her flight thus far, Ashe knew what was to come.

Up, up she rose. Higher and higher. Ashe only watched, keeping himself below her. A fine falcon's screech cut through the morning air as Shankaria reveled in her flight. Abruptly her ascent came to a halt. She rolled over onto her back and rolled into a twirling dive.

In but a moment she was hurtling towards earth, spinning seemingly out of control as she did so. Far below her Ashe could see where she was headed. They were about a quarter of a day's walk from the edge of the Dale of Wolves, and far below him was a small cottage that could only be owned by a Dale Gnome.

The cottage had actually once been a huge oak tree, nearly fifteen paces across. But the tree had long since fallen and was now capped with thatching. Ashe imagined that it had been hollowed out to make a cozy home.

There was a small vegetable and herb garden beside the cottage and a stream trickled happily around the yard. A horde of rabbits hopped merrily between the two, paying no heed whatever to the two raptors that so rapidly approached.

Ashe watched as Shankaria plunged towards the ground. It was clear to the venerable druid that she was either incredibly foolish or she was incredibly good. Suddenly she pulled up out of her dive and came to a near stop in mid-air, apparently defying the laws of physics as she consumed the sum total of her momentum in an oddly contorted blur.

The little Dale Gnome landed unceremoniously in the soil of her yard and was instantly covered by a blanket of rabbits.
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Wildfire

No worrries, I'm a patient bear ;)
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Wildfire

Ashe was amused at Shankaria's flight. It perfectly defined the mannerisms that he had come to know as Dale Gnome trait. It reminded him of a tail expressing a cat's emotions. There was an unrefined honesty that often came out in the animal form of an individual as though they had, in fact, actually become that creature.

The silver falcon had slowed his decent to the ground. Fluttering his wings in a hover, he morphed back to his natural human form and gently landed his feet to the ground. Ashe chuckled with a childlike laughter as he watched Shankaria play her family of rabbits. He thought it curious that gnome from the Dale of Wolves would be bold enough to have such pets amidst the many wolf packs that roamed this area. However, Shankaria was an agent of Mahiya and had a connection with animals as he had. The wolves would understand what was prey and what was friend.

The home that had been made here was cozy to Ashe to say the least. Suddenly the house he had back in Threshold didn't seem so luxurious. He held no envy of the makeshift cottage but he admired the innovation of culture.

"In looking at your home, Shakaria, I regret not visiting sooner." Ashe said with wonder. "I'm certain you would like my faerie friend Whisper, as she also lives in the heart of a great tree. In fact, it is she who has led me to the Tower west of here."
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

"Begone, rascals!" Shankaria shouted playfully at her rabbit friends. They scattered, clearly having played that game before.

"A-ya." She replied to Ashe as she rose to her bare feet. "Welkum ta me burrough."

She transitioned suddenly to the cant then. "How can we not love the faerun, eh?" She asked. Ashe noted that even though she spoke the cant, she carried now a thick north-woods accent that she had not exhibited earlier.

She transitioned once again to the common tongue, then. "A trip ta th' tower essplains yer bein' in th' Dale, an' I'm glad tha' ye came ta me ta talk on Maccabeus too." She moved about her yard much like a human child would: her walk was almost a skip. As she spoke to Ashe she poked her ancient staff into her dormant fire pit. Flames leapt up merrily. "Wha's Istisha gut'm doo'n?" Next to the fire pit there was a large (though still gnome-sized), covered black cauldron that hung upon a transit. She swung the cauldron over the fire and turned her bright green eyes to her visitor.
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Wildfire

Ashe mused at the comment. Only one of a pure understanding could ask that question seriously and without doubt. Ashe sat by the newborn fire and took off his boots. His aged and gnarly toes cracked as he stretched them out before the flames. Few things matched the comfort of a fire at ones feet.

"Grand things await good Maccabeus and his Wolf brother." Ashe said with pride in the nature cant. "He has brought the Ring of Mists back into majestic awakening by the healing power of Istisha. They have been chosen and it's my honor to say that they are fitting the role perfectly."

"It is no accident that Maccabeus and Grr growl grr grr have arrived." Ashe said with a tint of distress and speaking Wolf's lupine name with ease. "The soldiers of the Nameless Void have been on the up rise and times are on the edge of change. You've no doubt seen the Blood Tear." Ashe, through his Seer's training and omen reading, knew this to be an unavoidable truth. "Our Maccabeus could very well be instrumental in shaping the future in the trials to come. Istisha, Syrryth'Nyx, as you well know, does not choose it's guardians lightly."

Wildfire's Note: For further background and memory shaking please read the ICD "Secrets and Truths"  http://griznuq.com/index.php?topic=5236.0
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

North Woodlands Gnomish 0066ff
Brethren's Cant ff9933
Common (for the wildlands)


Shankaria's face held a moment of sadness as Ashe spoke. "Ah-norya." She said. "Ah'v seen th' Descent." She clucked, knowing as Ashe knew that dark times lay ahead.

"And I'll be not surprised to see that Maccabeus and Wolf are pivitol in your grandson's efforts against the Bull's Head. Those two are special amongst special folk, though neither knows it." Ashe could tell that there was more than mere pride in Shankaria as she spoke on her former student.
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Wildfire

OOC: My aplogies for the delay...the baking is over

"Special indeed" Ashe confirmed. "He has already planted a Vallenwood...a seed that I had been holding for a reason that, until recently, eluded me. It's now come to light as to why. It was meant for him...as other seeds are meant for him and those who would seek what he seeks." Ashe's eyes went vaguely vacant as he spoke.

He went deep into his own mind and was acutely aware of his surroundings and events to come. He saw a majestic forest of singing trees shedding a tranquil light. They spoke the wisdom of ages past and present. Their word was in the most ancient tongue...the tongue of Mahiya, of Nyx itself. The forest was not the Valley of Mist but rather it was the daughter of Valley and was equally sacred.

Ashe's now wispy voice floated on the breeze and his eyes echoed the stars, "This is his dream, the dream of us all, the dream of the Vallenwoods, the gift of Nyx. It will be his legacy if he should so choose it to be."

Ashe consciousness became presently acute. "The future and what may come to pass is but a hope. As for the now, the minions of Zyxu infected a most treasured grove near the Ring of Mists. The guardian dryad of the grove was likewise affected. Without the life breathing power of the Vallenwood, she and the grove will wither and die...or worse yet, become one of them. Maccabeus has taken the mantle of preventing that. Soon he will be armed with the knowledge that Zebulon has imparted to me as to where to find the youngling tree. This is one of many steps for both sides."

Ashe looked down at the short wise woman, "Truly his first teacher must be extraordinary indeed to have nurtured such a mind as passionate as his."
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

At this last compliment, Shankaria's ruddy face flushed. "You give me too much credit." She said. "I did ought but what Mahiya and her children bade me do." That was true, certainly, but Ashe knew that craftsmen use only the finest of tools for their work.

"In truth," she continued, "I knew that a Vallenwood had been planted. I was deep in the wood dancing with the Vallenbrush on the morning of the planting. Though I knew not where or by whom the planting had been had, I knew that it had been done. It warms my heart to know that my Rascal had a hand in it."

She looked up at the elder human then. "An' don' ye wurree none." She said. "He'll have dun what he sets ta doin'. Him an' Wolf'll hav' it Her way. The lights'll shimmer forth frum th' gates o' the Valley an' th' Bull's Head'll be blinded an' hornless asides." She jerked her head in a nod that seemed as though to assure the doing of her portent. "Th' Rascal'll make good'uv it."

"If you need, revered Brother," she added, falling back into her cant. "My forests are at peace, relatively at the moment, and she is well guarded in the now by her Gnarcheon. I'll make my way to Threshold to ward over the Ring of Mists (which I'd be remiss to not see) while Maccabeus and Wolf journey to the Acorn." Her eyes took a far-away glaze to them. "It's been a long, long while since I've crested the mount into the Valley. It'd do my old bones good to see it."
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Wildfire

Ashe silently berated himself for not extending an offer to join him. He tried to rationalize it by maintaining that much had been on his mind, but deep down, he knew that wasn't true. He simply hadn't thought of it.

"I think it would be a savory surprise for Maccabeus if you were to come back with me. Not sure what the ol boy would do to be quite honest." Ashe smirked at thinking of Maccabeus's antics...and really, he knew just where they came from.

"He'll be more at ease knowing that someone is there to guard the Ring just in case. Not that others wouldn't bu..." Ashe thought a moment. He remembered that the Wolfjaw family would be back from their hunting trip soon if not already. "How would you like to meet the descendants of the Great Hunter while you're in Threshold? I can assure you they would fascinated by your arrival."
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

"Akh kreuberrin!" Shankaria exclaimed, stirring her heating cauldron with a wooden spoon that looked more like an oar than not. "An' a treat tha'd be." Her feet did a little jig while she worked. She moved a clay kettle over to the edge of the fire, resting it on a flat stone that looked to be there for that specific purpose.

"Buht I can' leave jest yet." She continued pleasantly. "Th' Gnarcheon are meetin' a' th' Grove a' Needles inna bit more th'n a week yet. After tha' I'll be along. If ah miss'em, ah'll see'em onna their return."

She turned about, covering her pot, and skipped over to a small well-worn stump that appeared to be worked into a chair just for her. A small reddish rabbit hopped into her lap as she sat. "But tell, me dear," she addressed Ashe, pulling his wandering attention from the various rabbits that littered the vicinity of Shakaria's cottage. "How's your young scion?"
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Wildfire

Ashe's pride swelled at the mention of the young Vallenwood. As he took a seat on a nearby moss frosted rock he wondered how much more it would have grown by the time he got back to the Ring of Mists.

Speaking in cant he replied, "It's truly majestic. I've never seen any tree grow as fast as this one. What makes it truly gifted is that it's drinking from four very remarkable founts." Again Ashe's thoughts went back to Maccabeus. Had it not been for his channeling of Istisha's life healing power, the founts may never have seen salvation. In fact, something far worse may have occurred though only Ashe was aware of that.  "Each fount, it would seem, is the blood of the four. As their waters mingle, a most unique water is made." The venerable druid thought for a moment and continued, "I've been to many places...many sacred places in my life...and I've not ever seen water of this kind. It has a purity that...well, is divine."

Ashe felt his shortness of words did little justice to describing the nature of the water. He knew that the wise Dale Gnome would understand.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

HAHA!

scion: Pronunciation [sahy-uhn]
 
–noun
1. a descendant.
2. Also, cion. a shoot or twig, esp. one cut for grafting or planting; a cutting.

I had intended definition 1, and you took definition 2 (with masterful literary license)...I'm going to have to digest this! :)
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